26 Moments Out of 525,600
by Silver-Serval
Summary: Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breaths away. In every year, there is 525,600 moments to take our breath away. Here is a collection moments that helped shape Sam's life. Wincest.
1. First

**Disclaimer**: In no way, shape, or form do I own Sam, Dean, or the rest of the Winchester family. Nor to I own Supernatural. I just like to screw around in their word. :)

**Author's Note**: Beta'd! Can y'believe it? It's been beta'd! xD First time that's happened in ages... Oh!! And she thought it was adorable. :D So I'm super proud about it.  
And remember, folks, this it the first in a series of 26. Two and three are finished and _might_ be posted later this evening. ... Or maybe not. Maybe it'll be a treat for tomorrow. :3 Much love!

**::First::**

Sam Winchester is barely two weeks old and it's his first time out of the hospital. He's in the car next to Momma while Papa is making the buggy-thing go to where ever they're going. Sammy hopes it's soon though, cause he's really, really tired...

When Sam next woke up, he was in the arms of a stranger. They smelled like Papa and Momma, more like Papa, but the smell is still....different. It is different in a good way though.

Sam wriggled impatiently in the stranger's arms as he struggled to name something that he didn't have a name for and earns a half-smothered giggle for his efforts.

Sam opened his eyes, blinking in mild shock at the sound as he stared into a pair of large hazel eyes that seemed to hover right over his face. Momma laughed, yes, but it was soft - muted, almost - and Papa hadn't laughed yet. Sam sometimes wondered why.

But this person! This new person was so... What was the word Momma had used? He was... Was... Oh! He was _pretty_! That's it!

Sam smiled contentedly and the face above him broke into one of those wide grins that made his whole face crinkle. And his eyes, the boy's eyes, crinkled, too. Such a pretty, pretty hazel. Sammy just wanted to touch them...

"_Pwetty Sammy, Mom!"_ Sammy wriggled in excitement and flailed his hands. He wanted the stranger's attention - he wanted those eyes! When the stranger's attention was brought back to him, Sam gurgled in delight and, with his strength fading into the soothing blackness that he'd come to associate with - what was the word Momma had called it? - sleep, he reached up for those pretty, pretty hazel eyes.

But wouldn't you know it? His hand fell short and landed on the stranger's nose. There was a brief moment of silence before the stranger began giggling. Sam squealed once more in delight and flailed his hands, but his limbs were getting a little more than heavy at this point, and he blinked hazily once before shuttign his eyes and opening his mouth to yawn and smack his lips.

"_Oh, look, Dean! He's falling asleep in your arms."_ Momma's voice.

There is a soft, unintelligible reply and Sam barely managed a faint smile as the last of the sleep overtook him. Dean, Dean, Dean, _Dean_. What a pretty name.

* * *

Silver: Soo... What'd you guys think?  
Sam(my): I thought it wa-  
Dean: I was _never_ that young. Never.  
Silver: Uhh... Right.  
Sam: No kidding. Anyway, I thought it was great, you really captured that moment.  
Silver: Aww! Thank you Sammy!! I knew there was a reason I liked you best. ::smooches::  
Sam: x) ::blushes::  
Dean: But I-but... I thought you loved me!  
Silver: I do. But Sammy knew what to say to feed my failing ego. So he's winning. xD  
Dean: ... ::pouts::


	2. Words

**Disclaimer**: In no way, shape, or form do I own Sam, Dean, or the rest of the Winchester family. Nor to I own Supernatural. I just like to screw around in their word. :)

**Author's Note**: Beta'd! Another beta'd fic! :D Believe it!  
And remember, folks, this it the second in a series of 26. Three has been beta'd... But I want prompt 4 done before I think about posting number 3.

**::Words::**

Sam Winchester was not happy. Not happy at all. The source of his unhappiness was very simple, as it normally is with young younger children - they're hungry, they're thirsty, they need to go to the bathroom, etc. But Sam's is a little bit more complicated.

"Sammy, what'd'y'want for lunch? Mushy flakes or bananas?" Dean Winchester, Sam's older brother, was peering at him through the mesh of the _babycage!_ playpen, as if Sam could actually pick one or the other.

Which in fact, he kind of could; you see, Sam's unhappiness was a little more complicated because it stemed from a desperate wish speak, and he wanted it very badly.

_'Nanas!_ Sam chanted loudly in his mind as he flailed his chubby fists. _Want 'nanas!_

Dean stared at him, as if he were reading his little brother's soul before shrugging. "Mushy flakes it is," he said before ambling off to the kitchen where Sam could only assume Papa was.

_Dean!_ Sam fumed. He didn't want those mushy flakes, he wanted 'nanas. _Dean! Dean! Dean! Dean!_ Sam didn't know what happened, but Dean was suddenly rushing into the room, mouth gaping open in shock.

"What was that, Sammy?"

"Deem!"

Wait... What the heck was that?

"Deem!" Sam says once more. There is a moment of silence as the truth dawns on Sam. Then he's grinning wider than a Cheshire Cat. "Deem, Deem, Deem!"

Dean is just standing there; he's staring at Sam as if his little brother had just morphed into a talking chipmunk. Sam blinks once then says softly, voice trembling, "Deem?"

Something in his tone must have snapped Dean out of it, because all of a sudden, Sam was flying around the room with his brother as Dean danced and shouted in glee. "You spoke, Sammy, you spoke!"

Sam cheered and shouted his brother's name once more. "Deem!"

"This's awesome! Can't wait to tell dad..."

By this point, however, Sam had really stopped listening because he was more intent on the celebration 'nanas that he was being fed.

* * *

Silver: Hmmm... I dont like that as much as the first one.  
Sam: So wait, my first word was "Deem"?  
Dean: Uhh, yeah?  
Silver: Uhh... Right.  
Sam: Wow.  
Dean: Yeah.  
Sam: Huh. So... then where was dad?  
Dean: Uhh...  
Silver: And that's all for our show!  
Boys: Wait... We're on a show now?  
Silver: Uhh... Yeah. XD  
Sam: Wow.  
Dean: No kidding.  
Silver: And we're done. Let's mosey you boys over for your photoshoots so I'll have something for the nice reviewers...


	3. Blood

**Disclaimer**: In no way, shape, or form do I own Sam, Dean, or the rest of the Winchester family. Nor to I own Supernatural. I just like to screw around in their word. :)

**Author's Note**: Beta'd! Another beta'd fic! :D Believe it!  
And remember, folks, this it the third in a series of 26. Sorry it took so long to post, but I've been utterly swamped while trying to work on my senior project. I'm writing a novel, so it demands a lot of my time.

**::Blood::**

There is a flicker of movement from behind a potted plant in the lobby of the Lucky Nine motel just outside of Springfield, Missouri. After a moment of casual silence, the shadow of a young boy, probably no older than three, appears on the hardwood flooring of the hallway that is lined with the doors to the first floor rooms.

The shadows shortens, then lengthens, then shortens again as it passes beneath the large overhead lights. The shadow makes its way down the hall then turns to the right to head up the stairs.

There is an eerie wail that sounds suspiciously like "Sammy", but the shadow does not hesitate. Instead, it slowly creeps up the stairs and tries to stay hidden within the other shadows. The shadow holds a fake gun, the thumb and index finger gun, before itself before it breaches the last shadow given by the towering side of the stairs.

There is nothing there. The shadow heaves a sigh of relief.

Then, a colorful blanket-monster leaps down from a hidden perch.

Shouting in surprise, the shadow steps back and finds no purchase for its feet, and its suddenly tumbling and tumbling and tumbling down the flight of stairs.

The monster stops moving and the blanket is shoved away to reveal 7-year-old Dean Winchester's wide, terrified eyes.

"Sammy!" Dean shrieks as he stumbles down the stairs to where his younger brother lay groaning in pain.

"Hurts," Sam mumbles through a mouth full of tears. "Hurts, Dean."

"I know," Dean says softly as he hoists his brother from the floor and clambers up the stairs to the second story's rooms, to their room.

When the door was firmly shut and locked behind them, Dean drops his baby brother on the edge of the tub and kneels before him. "Where's it hurt?" he asks softly, as he reaches over to touch a rapidly forming bruise on his brother's upper left arm.

Sam hiccups softly and waves his right hand helplessly. "Hurts everywhere, Dean!"  
Dean nods sympathetically even though he had no clue how it felt to fall down a flight of stairs, "Where's it hurt the most, buddy?"

Sam hiccups once more and pointed to his left knee, which was redder than anything else, before holding his elbows where Dean could see them. The elbows were what Dean was most concerned with. They were torn open, probably from catching and breaking the younger Winchester's fall.

Sniffling pathetically, Sam waits while his brother scavenges the cabinets above the sink. He still held a much rejected look on his face when Dean returned a few minutes later with a tube of something and a large box of Band-Aids.

One eighth of the tube, more than half the Band-Aids, and ten minutes later, Sam is curled up in a blanket on the couch while Dean shoves a movie in the VCR. As the previews began playing, Dean brings out a bowl of popcorn - their dinner for the evening - and put it on his brother's lap.

Leaving the lights on, just in case, the boys curl up to watch their favorite monster movie - Night of The Living Dead.

The movie has been going on for a few minutes before Dean leans over and pressed a light kiss to Sam's forehead, his small hand finding Sam's smaller one..

"Sorry," he whispers.

A small grin slips onto Sam's face and he scooted over so that he was leaning against his brother, their fingers intertwined. "Is 'kay."

* * *

Silver: My beta thought that was cute. ^^  
Dean: Your beta thinks _everything_ is cute.  
Sam: Uhm, guys?  
Silver: She does _not_! She thinks that shots and needles and snakes are awful. And she loaths being sick. And none of them are thought of as cute. ::nod::  
Dean: ... Everybody thinks that shots and needles fail. And being sick just sucks.  
Sam: Guys?  
Silver: So? I win.  
Dean: Like hell you do!  
Silver: Of course I win, I'm the writer! And I write slash! And you're a bishi, and thus are allowed to be slashed with other bishi!  
Sam: ....  
Dean: .... You do know we're brothers, right?  
Silver: Uhh, duh. :)  
Boys: Ewww!  
Silver: Mwahahaha! Now, because I've proven that I'm still all-powerful, I'm off to catch Castiel so I can pull on his face and steal his angel-issue trench coat. ::grabs a net and marches out the door::  
Sam: Oh, crap. Wai- ::a hand is clamped over his mouth::  
Dean: Shhh! You want her to come back here and torture us?! This is the first chance we've had alone since the end of season 4! We should escape now, while we have a chance!  
Sam: But...  
Dean: But what?! What could be so important that you almost reminded her she was leaving us alone?  
Sam: ... First, we're not alone. Her cat-demon-slave-ninja-thing is here.  
Dean: Uhm, what?  
Sam: Snowkit. That cat that died and stuff.  
Dean: We'll exorcise it. Next?  
Sam: And Cass is here too. ... He was hiding.  
Dean: And you were gonna give him away? You loser!  
Sam: ... Lucifer's looking for us, and without her to shield the place, he can find us. And Cass isn't strong enough to stop him.  
Dean: ... Oh. Well, crap. ::begins running around, screaming like an idiot::  
Sam: -.- ::facepalm::


End file.
